


instructions for leaving unattended: don't

by doofusface



Series: cinq et un [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 5 Things, Best Friends, Comedy, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, good friends make you regret life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 19:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14339214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doofusface/pseuds/doofusface
Summary: Five times Peter’s friends make up excuses for him, and one time he stops them.Or: Best friends are bad for PR.





	instructions for leaving unattended: don't

**Author's Note:**

> we here with the jokes
> 
> i love 5+1's u guys
> 
> EDITED THE TEXTS: ned's are in bold in group chat, but if it's just him and pete it's normal format

**_a movie_ **

MJ is dragged into their little Spider-Man team because Ned messes up one day during the end of junior year’s fall semester.

And by “mess up”, well.

He’s not the best at thinking up excuses on the fly.

Let’s just say Peter gets called by Mr. Tony Stark at 5pm on Saturday, effectively cancelling his plans with MJ for that night’s (semi-)date to go see that new, questionable rom-com about “high school” and “being a teenager”.

(Semi-date as in, _technically_ , he’d asked her out, but managed to forget Ned was already going to see the film with him.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s probably going to be a staple of their relationship to have Ned there a lot anyway, so MJ didn’t really mind.)

So now, Ned’s stuck outside the AMC, on the empty sidewalk, with a barcode for three tickets on his phone, no Peter, and a very discerning MJ trying to make him crack.

 _You can do it Ned!_ he says to himself. _You’ve kept it together before, you can do it again!_  

“So where’s Mr-Never-Late?” MJ asks, smiling _much_ too sweetly.

“Oh! He’s! Um! I think he had to go out-of-state. Um. Emergency. With his...dentist.” Ned says, scrunching up his face.

_That was bad. But she won’t notice! Or she’ll ignore it. She always ignores it._

MJ pulls out her phone, tapping over to the voicemail section.

Ned looks between her and the phone, confused.

“You know how Peter butt-dials me pretty much every day or so?” she asks, voice even.

That sweet smile is looking more terrifying by the second, and Ned doesn’t want to answer, but: “Yes…?”

She hands him the phone. “Press play, _buddy_.”

Something is very disconcerting about the way she says “buddy”, and it reminds Ned of every ill-fated gangster film he’s seen growing up, which was a _lot_.

He gulps.

She raises a brow. “Something wrong, Ned?”

“N...no…” he says, grimacing. “Nothing wrong...heh... _uh_ …”

What could it hurt, right?

He presses play.

 _I’m screwed_ , is the first thing he thinks; Peter’s far-ish from the phone, but near enough to hear. He’s being quippy and using his Spider-Man-big-boy-Italian-New-Yorker-accent, and the sounds of other people yelling to _Get him!_ Or _It’s Spider-Man and Iron Man, book it!_ make up the rest of the call.

 _I’m supremely screwed, but Peter’s going to die_ , is the second thing he thinks, attempting to smile as he passes the phone back to MJ.

She smirks. “Doesn’t he usually hide his bag?”

“Yeah, but I guess he hit ‘call’ befo—wait, how do you know that?”

MJ quirks a brow. “You really think I didn’t know?”

“...No, I was just hoping you’d? Ignore? It?” Ned grins sheepishly. “Y’know, maybe?”

“I was going to,” she says, putting her phone away. “But I don’t like the idea of starting a relationship with secrets as big as... _this_.”

Ned tries to appear more sheepish. Or to turn _into_ a sheep. Anything to repent in Peter’s stead.

“He wanted to tell you, if that helps.”

“He’s a big dummy.”

“ _Well_ —”

“He thought he was protecting me, didn’t he?”

“ _Weeeeelll_ —”

“Screw him, I’m in this now,” she says flipping off to the general direction of where she thinks Peter’s at.

Ned redirects her outstretched arm northwards. “He’s in Vermont,” he coughs.

MJ nods once in acknowledgement, adding her other hand into the _Flip Off Peter Parker And Hope He Senses It_ signal.

“That’s not how the spider-sense works,” Ned whispers after about a minute, seeing as she’s still in her performance art state.

MJ blinks, turning to him. “The _what_?”

Ned has once again become a sheep.

“You— _he_ —” she starts, floundering. “—who named it that?”

Ned is a sheep, and therefore only knows how to smile awkwardly, for sheep do not speak.

“We’re gonna have words about this later,” MJ says, recovering and dragging him to the theater. “But first, let’s go see ourselves underrepresented in mass American media.”

_**a practice** _

Peter calls MJ to tell her that he’s missing Decathlon, and that he’s _super sorry—I’ll make it up to you with ice cream, I promise!_ because some guys are trying to disintegrate the Midtown Tunnel.

She says: “It’s okay—I’m in the mood for pistachio,” then hangs up and walks into the practice room nonchalantly.

“Peter’s not coming,” she announces to (mostly) Mr. Harrington, but Flash is in his usual seat nearby and hears her.

“Congrats, now we _know_ he likes you,” he says, flipping a page on his—is that a _gossip magazine_?

 _Way to be a token rich dude_ , MJ thinks, busting out a cup of applesauce and a napkin-wrapped spoon, and placing them on the podium.

“Careful, _Michelle_ ,” he continues pointedly, remembering her warning from last year, “Parker skipping practice could lead to getting dumped at Homecoming, if you two even make it that far.”

“Is it his internship?” Mr. Harrington cuts in, concerned. “They work him like a dog over there.”

“Oh, actually, Peter’s in the mafia,” MJ deadpans, taking in a spoonful of applesauce before she shuffles the lightning round cards. “Jewish mafia. It’s very interesting, actually. I hear the Passover brisket is to die for.”

“You don’t eat meat,” Flash says, furrowing his brows.

“Hence the ‘I hear’, Eugene.”

 _Ding_. “He hasn’t gotten his ears checked, MJ,” Abe says from his seat.

“Correct,” MJ says, a lone finger gun assigning him the proverbial _point_.

Ned snickers in the back as Mr. Harrington attempts to reteach the solemnity of The Bell, and why _we shouldn’t use it for comedic interludes, Abraham_.

* * *

_Ok so why does everyone keep giving me weird looks and asking abt passover brisket_

_no idea_

**_dunno dude_ **

_-_-_

_haha looks just like you_

_> :(_

_stop texting us ned almost got in trouble_

**_no i didnt_ **

_yes you did_

_[Seen by “BRO #1” 3 minutes ago.]_

_What happened?_

_hahaha ned got caught_

_ill tell you about it later_

_peace_

_**a week** _

Ned promises to make sure MJ doesn’t tell any more people that Peter’s in the mafia, even though it’s the most far-fetched possibility available to man and _no one thinks she’s serious, dude_.

But here’s the thing: it was funny.

And smart.

And no one made any follow-up questions about Peter’s (so far one-time) disappearance because of it.

So Ned starts taking _notes_. Starts thinking up ideas. Gets a bit of a brainstorm session going for out-of-whack ideas that are _questionable_ but also _not_ —the kinds of excuses people would only ask _clarifications_ for, not direct digging on Peter’s true whereabouts.

And Ned, well.

When Peter’s stuck upstate recovering from a lab-generated virus, Ned doesn’t let MJ tell people that Peter’s in the mafia.

But that doesn’t mean _he_ can’t tell people that the kid they know as “Peter” is actually in the Junior FBI— _It’s a super-secret thing, I can show you proof!_ —and had his cover blown.

That he’s off in witness protection until further notice.

That if he comes back, it could be him, or the "New Peter", as his research suggested.

MJ joins his conspiracy theory hype, and they convince enough kids that when Peter comes back there’s a long, awkward week of people stepping around him, trying to find fault in his features.

Trying to find his surgery scars, or the seam of a mask.

* * *

_Junior fbi_

_Really_

_< 3 haha_

_it was all Ned_

_you should be proud_

_[Seen 5 minutes ago.]_

_hahaha dont be salty pete_

_it’s not a good look on you >:P_

_**a teacher** _

Peter decides it’s best not to tell them _when_ he’ll be gone.

Maybe it’ll keep them from coming up with overly-thought out excuses.

Keep them from making him infamous at school.

...Obviously, that doesn’t work.

Those two have been _compiling_ and _conspiring_ together for months now, and the second he leaves to respond to a nearby emergency, they’re back at it with the _He’s been detained for trying to light fireworks using recently discarded cigarettes_ and _Oh, didn’t you hear? Peter’s trying out for the musical rendition of_ The Catcher in the Rye— _it’s gonna be super depressing_ — _he’s going for Background Student #4._

Every few days, he steps into school and gets a special meeting with whomever was at the receiving end of their excuses.

Usually a teacher.

Because they like to mess with him like that.

“Please stop telling Cobwell that I’m trying to create a new scientific formula,” Peter begs one day at lunch. “He thinks you’re serious, and that I can actually do it.”

“More faith than me,” MJ says, biting into an apple.

Peter frowns.

“Heh. He _heh_ ,” Ned chuckles, a wide smirk on his face. “Better get on that, bro.”

“Borrow,” Peter deadpans, taking MJ’s free hand and flipping off Ned with it.

**_a practice (remix)_  
**

MJ gives Ned a _look_ , and he nods.

Peter’s been gone for fifteen minutes.

He’s rushing out to Queens Blvd to stop a robbery by the mall.

He’s busy.

And most importantly: he won’t make it back to finish practice.

_This is it._

“Has anyone seen Peter?” Mr. Harrington asks, walking back into the gym.

MJ inhales. This is her shining moment. The greatest day of her career as Boyfriend Excuse-maker Extraordinaire. The day her descendants will make plays about, and maybe a Broadway hit. 

_Exhale._

“Peter’s Spider-Man,” she deadpans, turning a page of her book for dramatic effect.

“That’s the dumbest excuse yet, Michelle,” Flash blanks, scrunching up one side of his face.

(Ned is beside him, pretending to fix his own bangs.

Pretending, because he’s trying not to laugh.

Trying so, _so_ hard.)

“Yeah, MJ, that was kinda weak,” Cindy agrees.

“ _Ehhh_ ,” Abe says, giving a _so-so_ motion with his hand. “I give you the benefit of the doubt.”

MJ yawns. It’s practiced and perfect and working and _oh man, are these guys blind?_ “Sorry, been staying up for those SAT practice runs.”

(Ned is dead, underground, resuscitated, and dead again.)

Mr. Harrington clicks his tongue, arms on his hips. “Well, guess we’re one less again today. MJ, ready to run the drills?”

MJ closes her paperback and salutes with it. She turns to the team, too lazy to get up from the floor to walk to the podium. “‘Kay, suckers—ready? Who was the first woman to win a Nobel Prize? Full name, and if you say it wrong I’m gonna make you spell it.”

* * *

_U TOLD THEM I WAS SPIDER-MAN??????_

_[Seen 5 minutes ago.]_

_MJ._

_MJ!!!!!!_

_[Seen 32 minutes ago.]_

* * *

_U KNEW!!!!_

_[Seen 9 minutes ago.]_

_NED URE SUPPOSED TO B /MY/ BRO_

_[Seen 24 minutes ago.]_

* * *

_Treason_

_hah you wouldnt have this problem if you actually showed up for class though_

**_yup yup what mj said_ **

_TREASON_

_relax no one bought it_

**_it was SO GOOD dude_ **

_too bad, you miss all the good stuff when youre off being an oversized ant_

_Spider_

_yeah uh your color scheme still screams ‘ant’_

**_ooh dude maybe u should go all black? like bw_ **

_[Seen 11 minutes ago.]_

**_is he ignorin us_ **

_think so_

**_pete r u ignorin us_ **

_[Seen 7 minutes ago.]_

_I have concluded that Peter is definitely ignoring us_

**_yknow dude if u stay in school more than go runnin at every cat stuck in a tree call u could avoid all dis_ **

_^like I said, but surprisingly better_

_**thanks mj!** _

_< 3_

_> :(_

_aw, there’s my baby of a boyfriend_

_> :(((((((_

_pouty Peter_

**_hahahahaha_ **

_> :((((((((((((((((_

 

_**a bonus** _

MJ passes Ned her phone, showing him her newest masterpiece.

(Nothing would beat the Spider-Man one, of course, but she liked the challenge.)

“ _Nice_ ,” he says, before passing her the paper he’d been scribbling on since lunch.

“‘ _Missed his flight back to New York because Thor borrowed him for an Asgardian science experiment_ ’?” MJ reads, nodding approvingly. “Ned, if you keep this up, I’ll give you full permission to write my autobiography.”

“Thanks!” he replies, checking his watch. A minute and twenty til class starts. “Rock-paper-scissors for it?”

“Let’s go, Leeds,” she says, fist ready.

One minute til the bell rings.

“Rock—”

“Paper—”

“Scissors!” Ned says excitedly, throwing out an open hand.

MJ shrugs, _Scissors_ ready. “Sorry, nerd. Looks like Peter’s off training huskies how to paint _and_ sled today.”

Twenty seconds.

“I’m here!” Peter wheezes, scrambling to his seat behind them. “I’m here, don’t have— _wheeze_ —excuse, I’m here, we’re good, we’re all. Good. Right?”

“Don’t have an aneurysm, Peter, my doctorate isn’t in medicine,” Ms. Warren says, waiting for him to calm down. “Now, I believe we left off on page 37…”

MJ _tsks_ , shaking her head at him, shifting her attention to the blackboard.

Ned is equally _bummed_ and shoves the excuse-filled paper into his backpack, to be used another day.

Peter’s jaw drops.

What, did they _not_ want him to be here?

After complaining about him leaving too many times during school hours?

_Really?_

* * *

_So youre just gonna ignore me_

_yes_

**_ye_ **

_But i showed up :(_

_but you were not scheduled to_

**_wut mj said_ **

_Do you know how many times ive gotn weird looks cuz of u 2_

_um yes?_

_thats what made it fun, loser_

_Gee i feel so loved_

**_so ull be gone next wed right? cuz i got a good one saved if it rains that day_ **

_what? no he wont??_

_Uh_

_Peter I’m not covering for you at acadec_

_again_

**_eyes up fam warrens doin her scan thing_ **

_we’re not done talking about this Peter >:( _

* * *

_but really are you skipping next week?_

_I might but i should get back for practice? Sorry_

_do you schedule alien attacks now or something?_

_Nah but we gotta pick up some ppl_

_At um_

_The place_

_oh_

_oh is it the_

_Yeah_

_okay_

_be careful_

_Yeah i will_

* * *

“‘ _Raft Prisoners Released By Unknown Assailants_ ’,” Ned reads off the news site. “Whoa. This is _huge_.”

“Yeah,” Peter grimaces on his bed, the gunshot wound in his side still being picked at by May.

“And you only got shot once?” MJ asks evenly from the couch.

It’s more than she’s said to him since he’d called about having to rush home because of an emergency, so he’ll take it.

“If there’re more, I haven’t seen any signs,” May replies, deft hands working. “Why couldn’t you have gone upstate?”

“Tony wanted to make sure they couldn’t pin me to it.”

Ned spins in Peter’s chair. “Is that why you left your web-slingers?”

Peter nods, grunting as May finishes recovering fragments.

“Wait, so how did you fight?” MJ asks, peeking over the couch-back.

“I have fists, you know.”

“You suck at hand-to-hand.”

“Hey! I’ve been training!”

MJ walks into the room, gesturing at him in his current state. “Doesn’t mean you got any _good_.”

Peter pouts. “I beat those guys in East Village last week with zero webs!”

“Peter, my dearest loser," she says, sitting by Ned on the floor. "Bragging about beating a few gun-less, entry-level gangsters in _broad daylight_ , with a police station around the block is...not cool. Like at all. Like, I’m almost reconsidering this relationship.”

Peter pouts some more.

“What?” MJ squints, free from guilt. “I said almost. I’d never break up with you.”

Ned _whistles_ , and May _Ooooh_ ’s.

Peter wonders if become a puddle will make his stitches useless.

“Haha, funny,” MJ smiles tightly, shaking her head. “Just for the record, I’m never breaking up with you because I have a hundred more explanations for your disappearances, and about half are rendered uncredible if we’re not dating.”

...Peter’s back to a solid.

He frowns at her, pale from the long trip over and, y'know, blood loss. “I don’t know why I love you.”

 _Uh_.

MJ blinks, eyebrows raising. “...Say that again?”

“Uh. I don’t know,” Peter says, dodging.

“Yes you do,” May says, knotting the last stitch and heading out the door. “Ned, help me with the towels.”

“Yes, May.”

“I’ll come with!” Peter half-yells, beads of sweat forming on his face.

“Nope!” Ned replies cheerily, leaving him to his fate.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Peter concedes, facing MJ. “It’s pretty big, y’know, and I don’t blame you if y—”

“I love you,” she laughs, moving to sit by him. She kisses him. “I love you, too, even if you enjoy making bad decisions.”

“I don’t make a conscious effort.”

“Ah,” she says, “but there’s _still_ an effort in there.”

He kisses her, soft and slow. “You suck.”

“ _Mm_ , but you love me.”

“But I love you.”

“Nice.”

“Underwhelming.”

“Screw you,” she says, making to shove him, but stopping short. She glares at his side. “You’re lucky you got shot.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you.”

“Yes, okay, I love you too, that has been established.”

“I know,” Peter laughs, holding her face. “I just like telling you.”

Ned shoves his arm into the room, and the T-Birds singing  _Tell me more, tell me more!_ plays on blast.

MJ laughs, getting up. “You’re both so dumb, why am I friends with you?”

“We brainwashed you with _Star Wars_ ,” Ned quips, showing his grinning face. He shuts off the music.

“Just don’t take me down to your social standing, aight? I like being somewhat unreachable.”

Ned walks up and pokes her. “Seems reachable.”

She flips him off.

Peter laughs.

Tomorrow, he’ll let them tell the teachers he got bitten by a stray two-foot long baby shark in the Long Island Sound, or that he’s taking part in a day-long experiment and has to wear a menstrual cramp-inducing machine until dismissal and that’s why he’s _hunched over, and yeah, there’s like fake blood, and everything!_

Because _whatever_ , he’s alive.

They’re alive.

And if some wild jokes make their days move a little faster, or a little less anxiety-induced, then he won’t mind.

It worth seeing them smiling.

It’s worth it a thousand times over.

**Author's Note:**

> SPECIAL S/O TO WRYENCOUNTER FOR HELPING ME THINK OF EXCUSES U DA BEST MOM
> 
> WASSUP have a good day lads God bless
> 
> kudos n comment 'ppreciated, not required. pay me with your joy and yell at me on tumblr at doofwrites!
> 
> EDIT: hello me n my buddy made a bingo card for my fics and you can find it here: https://doofwrites.tumblr.com/post/173017158793/made-a-joke-with-queenwitty-and-here-we-are-tried


End file.
